Stars
by aspectabund
Summary: The earth is always there, but it isn't your friend; you don't trust it, though you need it. If anything, if you had to choose a form of nature to personify, you would choose the stars. Terra-centric; pre-Teen Titans; collection of oneshots.
1. oo1 scapegoat

**Title:** Scapegoat  
**Rating:** K  
**Summary:** The earth is always there, but it isn't your friend; you don't trust it, though you need it. If anything, if you had to choose a form of nature to personify, you would choose the stars.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Teen Titans, and I also don't own the headcanon that inspired this entire collection - that headcanon being #422 from teentitansheadcanons tumblr.

**A plot? What's that? Who needs that? Who wants that?! **

**Updates: I am working on Entropy and Azarath, I promise! I decided to update on FanFiction, on my profile - and I even have sneak peeks available for Azarath! So check it out :) **

* * *

You're on the run again.

This time, it wasn't your fault; it really wasn't. You _know_ when it's your fault, you can feel it in the air around you, the tremors and quakes and vibrations of the energy that follows you faithfully, even when everyone leaves you behind, or worse, forces you out. This time, the world around you is silent, and this time, you're not lying when you insist it's an accident. But no one cares about what you have to say; no one wants to let the death of a child pass unpunished, and they are looking for a scapegoat they can pin the blame on, and you are there, and the forces of nature are elusive.

"Please," you plead, "please, this isn't my fault, it really isn't." The same words spill from your lips over and over again, and you're so desperate, you're trying so hard, you don't know how to convey the deepest sincerity of your innocence and you know that whatever you do, they will only call you a convincing liar, but you try anyway, because this is the closest thing to home you've been ever to find and you're running out of places to go.

Perfectly in sync, each man and woman and child crosses their arms and shakes their head. Eyes are empty, faces are hard, and their will is set in stone. You are unofficially banished from civilization.

Head hung and neck weary, you leave. You don't look back. You pretend you don't hear the whispers of triumph behind you. You pretend that you chose to leave. You pretend you're not crying. You pretend you're not praying for your parents to come find you and teach you how to be yourself without hurting anyone.

* * *

It's night, and you're on the ground, the cool earth that helps you sometimes and abandons you other times. You don't know whether you hate the earth or not, but it's always there in a way that everything else isn't. It's a warm summer night and the wind is refreshing in the humidity of the South; you weave your fingers together behind your head and stare up.

The earth is always there, but it isn't your friend; you don't trust it, though you need it. If anything, if you had to choose a form of nature to personify, you would choose the stars.

You run a lot. Whether it be towards to or away from, you run as fast as your legs carry you. You know better than anyone how different people are and how that it's okay to be unusual. You know better than anyone how quickly things change, and you know better than anyone that sometimes, it's okay, and sometimes, it's out of your control – just like so much else. But through all of the rocking of the waves and the crash of your comfort zone, the stars have never changed. Steady and constant and four years behind, they give you hope that things will find its way somehow.

You close your eyes and turn to your side, curling up into a ball. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

* * *

******I was in the mood for some Terra love, or some Terra sympathy, I guess, and this just came. It took about twenty minutes to write. It's short, but I like it a lot. Maybe I'll even turn it into a collection of pre-Teen Titans Terra. Who knows?**


	2. oo2 yellow

**Title:** Yellow  
**Rating:** K+ for mild references  
**Summary:** He continues to avoid your eyes. "When I first saw you, I thought, 'Hey, look; a star.' That was my first thought," he finally says, slowly, thoughtfully.

**Alright, I succumbed; I turned this into a collection. I know, I know; "Dude, you can't even finish a story, and you're creating a collection!?" But they're oneshots! They're easy! They're fun! They don't have to connect at all! Forgive me, don't kill me, pleeeease ~**

* * *

"Sometimes, everything just seems so hard."

His voice is so, so soothing. You lean against him and let your head fall on his shoulder, nestled into the crook of his neck. He doesn't move, but he doesn't need to; the two of you understand each other. The two of you are both outlaws, both bound to misunderstandings and accusations. Nobody sees the souls underneath the mistakes. Nobody sees the good intent behind the misfortunate.

"Yeah, but at least we have each other," you murmur, closing your eyes. The two of you are sitting atop the highest building in New York City, hidden in the shadows, watching the twinkling lights beneath and wondering at the lives of normal people.

A girl who can control the earth, and a thief. It's sort of beautiful, you think.

"Where are you going to go next?" he asks. He reveals no emotion in his voice, but you've learned by now the signs: the little adjusting of his body to make you more comfortable means he cares about you more than you will ever know. With Jason, it's never about the tone, it's about the words, and the fact that he showed you the tiniest bit of his heart just by asking after you.

By asking where you will go, he's asking if you will be okay, and whether the two of you will be together tomorrow. It's his way of telling you he loves you.

"I'm not sure," you admit. "Maybe I'll stay here. With you," you add hopefully. You don't look at his face, you refuse to; you'll wait on his words and his response. But he's quiet, and you begin to worry; perhaps he doesn't want you around after all? Perhaps he thinks you're a freak, too?

"I'm leaving New York, Terra," he admits after a long pause. You freeze for a second, and then jump away from him, shocked and aghast and confused. You pull your knees to your chest and face him, embracing your legs, like you're trying to curl up into a ball, trying to protect yourself from the daggers the man you love is sending your way.

"What?!" you cry. "I thought this was your home."

"No," he shakes his head, "I don't have a home. My home is myself. My body. My voice."

"Then where do I fit?" you ask, desperate to know that somewhere in his plans of the departure, you belong.

He looks away and stares at the moon. "You can barely see the stars," he says softly.

"Don't," you say, your voice hardening. The stars. The accursed stars. He's paying more attentions to burning balls of gas than to you, a living, breathing girl he once called beautiful. You are furious. You _trusted_ him, _believed_ in him. You told him he was your future, that he made you feel whole, that he reminded you of sunshine and grass.

And he's leaving.

He continues to avoid your eyes. "When I first saw you, I thought, 'Hey, look; a star.' That was my first thought," he finally says, slowly, thoughtfully.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean," you spit.

"It means," he finally turns his head and looks at you, "you caught my eye. But look," he tilts his neck way back and points up at the sky, but you don't look away from him; you're memorizing everything about him. His eyes, his hair, his skin, the way his body moves so fluidly, the quirky rise of his eyebrow whenever he's trying to make a point, the finger that tilts your chin up when he wants to kiss you, the nose that he drags along your cheeks in foreplay.

"You can't see the stars in these city lights."

You blink once, then twice. "So, what you're saying is..."

"Is that I've lost interest," he says casually.

Your entire body reacts; it spasms, it spins out of control, and you rise to your feet. You can feel the space behind your eyes burning, and you know they're blazing yellow; you don't know what's going on outside of your own body and mind, but right now, you don't care; this boy _hurt you._

So you want to hurt him.

"But I love you!" you scream, shrill and angry and, though you try to force it down, still very desperate and very broken.

Your entire body releases a feline rage and power, until you notice that the air is suddenly chillier than it used to be. Slowly, the crackling energy fades from the space around you, and you can see again. You look around. And then you start crying.

He's gone.

"I hate the stars," you mutter, kicking at a rock by your feet on your way down from the roof.


	3. oo3 follow the leader

**title: **follow the leader  
**rating:** k  
**disclaimer:** i do not own teen titans, terra, geo-force, or markovia. everything about markovia is made up.

**note:** this idea came when i was babysitting; they were brother and sister, and they were playing follow the leader, and it was so cute. they were talking so animatedly and you could tell the little sister looked up to her brother, and she looked so much like terra, the idea slapped me in the face! so here it is. voila! i honestly don't like how it came out at all, but i finished it, and maybe some of you will like it.  
**note2:** i have no idea what terra and geo-force were like as children, so this may come off as a little ooc! oh wells.

* * *

"Follow me!" he cries, jumping from one rock to another, "Follow the leader!"

You try; you really do. But you end up slipping every so often, biting back a whimper as you get up and try all over again. The outskirts of the Markovia palace is wild and uncultivated, with rocks scattered everywhere, dry albeit luscious. It's a play place for you and your older brother, and the two of you often go and play Follow the Leader, or pretend to be secret undercover spies.

It's unfitting for a prince and a princess to act so childishly, but the two of you are children, so your parents turn a blind eye – for now. Brion is almost eleven, the age where the firstborn child must dedicate all of their time to their studies and duties. You, as the second daughter, are relatively free of such heavy responsibilities – you are only to become well-bred, dignified, and ladylike, to entertain young men and eventually find a suitable husband for yourself.

But you don't worry about that – you have a full five months before Brion has to become a real prince! You have all the time in the world to play.

"Wait for me, Brion!" you call out, stuck on a large rock. The next rock is small and far away, and while Brion is physically adept even for a ten year old, you are still scrawny and clumsy. Up ahead, your older brother turns and puts his hands on his hips, pouting stubbornly at you as he impatiently waits. Biting down on your lip, you decide to go for it; you leap.

"Terra!" Brion calls out, running to you with ease. You're sprawled on the rocks, bruised but not broken, and your elbow is bleeding. You look up into your brother's face and your lower lip quivers. At this, he gives you a stern look, and says, "Princesses don't cry, remember?"

You gulp down a wail, and nod. "Princesses don't cry," you repeat.

He grins and holds out his hand for you to take, which you do, waiting for you to finish brushing the dust off your body, ignoring the dry blood.

"We should go home," you say lightly. The sun is about to set, and Daddy and Mommy get angry when they're not on time for dinner.

Brion shakes his head insistingly. "No, I don't want to eat yet, I want to play!"

"Well, I'm going," you stick your tongue out at him, and he pinches it with his fingers. "Ew! Owwww!" you cry, trying furiously to withdraw your tongue back into the safety of your mouth. Brion giggles and shakes your tongue back and forth as you give him a glare you hope resembles Daddy's, but he ignores you.

"You look funny, Terra," he teases. You stamp your feet and say nothing, for fear of sounding distorted and foolish. Finally, he lets go, realizing you aren't willing to put up a fight to entertain him. As you wipe your tongue of all Brion germs, he looks off into the distance, suddenly somber.

"Terra?"

"What?" you snap.

"Do you _want_ to be a princess?" he asks seriously.

"I _am_ a princess, Brion," you say with a roll of your eyes. You're still mad at him for pulling on your tongue; it_ hurt._

"But do you want to be?" he repeats, meeting your eyes. Your stubborn resolve to hate him for the rest of the day evaporates into confusion, and you shrug, indulging the solemn atmosphere he seems to desire.

"I don't know," you say honestly, lowering your voice until it's almost a whisper, "Sometimes, I just want to be a bird."

"A bird?" Brion wrinkles his nose. "Not a ninja?"

"I want to fly!" you reply joyfully, spreading your arms wide as if they were wings, "and I want to touch clouds!"

"Clouds are boring," Brion says. "I'd rather go to the stars."

"Why?" you ask curiously.

"Because they're holes in the sky, and I bet that if you go through them, you'd find a new _universe_! With ninjas and assassins and superheroes!"

"And cotton candy!" you add cheerfully.

"And hamburgers!"

"And ponies!"

"And dinosaurs!"

"And... and..."

"AND NO PRINCES," Brion roars.

You burst into tears.

Brion rushes to your side, wrought with worry, and puts an arm around your shoulders. "What's wrong, Terra?" he asks tenderly.

"If you're not going to be there, I don't want to fly to the stars," you confess tearfully, looking sorrowfully into his eyes.

He blushes at the sudden emotional gravity of your words, and looks away, trying to maintain his pride as a man, trying to hide his own sensitivity and fondness for the only baby sister he has. "If you fly to the stars one day, I promise I'll be there," he says gruffly.

"But you said no princes!"

"I won't be a prince," he responds firmly, more to himself than to you.

The two of you are silent for centuries; Brion is lost in thought, and you're waiting for him to return to you, as he always does.

Finally, he beams at you boyishly and starts running. "Race you home!"

You shriek at the unfairness of the race's beginning, and sprint after him. He'll probably win; he always does. But even so, you throw yourself into speed, while looking up at the sky as it darkens, wondering how Daddy will react when he sees the two of you. You two are already late; the first star has come out.

You wonder what universe lays beyond the stars. Maybe they're holes in the sky, as Brion says. But you have a feeling that it's not about the universe that lays above the stars; it's what goes on underneath them.

* * *

**endnote:** have any of you guys noticed the oneshots have been getting longer and longer? maybe that's just me.  
**endnote2: **i don't know if you guys can tell, but i hate editing. i never edit. so forgive me, and if you are interested in becoming my little beta, then please PM me! because i can't edit to save my life.


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